


i won't be afraid (just as long as you stand by me)

by peppermintpatties



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Childhood, Childhood Memories, Emotional Hurt, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Henry-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27492979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintpatties/pseuds/peppermintpatties
Summary: 5 times Henry thought he’d never have a chance at love + 1 time he realized he actually does
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 173





	i won't be afraid (just as long as you stand by me)

**Author's Note:**

> hi, guys! i can't believe i managed to write one more fic before school completely takes over my life once again aaahh :( if it isn't obvious yet, i absolutely love 5+1 things hahaha will definitely try to write more during christmas break! for the meantime, i'll work my ass off to survive until december and then it's pure holiday fluffy fics for y'all :) thank you also for all the love on my latest firstprince fic! every comment and kudos melts my heart 🥺

One would think that being a prince means having everything served to you on a silver platter, but not for Prince Henry of Wales. It’s not that he doesn’t recognize what he has been given, it’s just that he prefers to have been presented with the choices himself rather than having shoved them at his face.

And speaking of being shoved, that’s what he felt like his whole goddamn life.

Shoved into a closet.

1.

Henry hated being a prince.

Sure, he has all the toys he wants and even the ones he doesn’t, he lives in a big house and he has servants who’s always present at his beck and call. But still, Henry despised all of it because for him, being a prince means having no friends.

He didn’t want a lot, just someone who would want to hang out with him at the palace, someone who won’t get angry if he has to cancel their plans because he has some princely duties to attend to, someone who’ll tickle the statuesque guards at the palace gates with him, someone who’ll look with him for abandoned places in the palace to hide in whenever his gran and her guards would pass by the hallways.

Someone who wants to be his friend because he’s Henry and not Prince Henry of Wales.

He found someone, eventually. He doesn’t know if his grandmother threatened his teacher into having Henry’s classmates approach him, but he didn’t ponder on it any further. He made a friend, and that’s all that matters.

“H-hello, Prince Henry.” A boy walked up to him during one of their breaks.

Currently, Henry was alone on a table for two eating his apple slices. He didn’t notice the boy at first; he assumed he was probably addressing someone behind him. But then, didn’t he say _Prince Henry_? Finally, he looked up and saw that a boy with light brown hair and a missing front tooth was smiling at him. Henry’s day just got ten times better. Immediately, he wiped his hands and offered a handshake. “Hi, there! Please just call me Henry. What’s your name?”

“Mike, Your Highness. Short for Michael.”

Ever since then, they have become inseparable. Henry’s wish came true. Mike did visit him at Kensington, they hid behind stairwells, they tried to make the guards laugh, they played out in the gardens (with a very exasperated Shaan always trailing behind them), and on the very rare occasion that his dad wasn’t busy with his work, Arthur joined his son and his friend in all of these.

For once in his life, Henry felt like he was going to be okay. That is, until he did the stupidest thing he’s ever done and ruined it all. Though there’s nothing wrong about it, it was different for Henry’s case. He, who has walls built around him because of the life he was born into. He, who has been taught nothing but conservative values. He, who has always been at the receiving end of his grandmother and his brother’s judgement even at such a young age.

Henry and Mike played all day in Henry’s room. It was late in the afternoon now, and Shaan just told them that Mike’s guardian is arriving soon, so they’d better pack up his things and get ready. Everything was going smoothly. The boys still managed one last round of Snakes and Ladders and were even successful in getting Shaan to agree to extend five more minutes. Henry was walking Mike to his door, but before he opened it to where Shaan was waiting for them on the other side, he kissed his friend on the cheek. “Thank you for today, Mike! I had a lot of fun.”

What Henry didn’t expect is for his friend to look at him in horror. “W-what do you think you’re doing?”

Henry frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It was just on the cheek. Plus, we’re friends!” And then he added nervously, “Aren’t we?”

“Friends don’t kiss each other, Henry. And because, you know…” Mike trailed off.

“Know what?”

“We’re both boys.”

“So, what? Don’t you kiss your dad?”

“Uh, no?” Mike scoffed. “We pat each other on the back like real men do.”

“I am a real man!” Henry protested.

“Boys don’t kiss other boys, even on the cheek!” Mike’s voice was a little louder now. Henry was starting to get more worried about the fact that Shaan might be listening to their entire conversation and report it to the Queen later, more than the fact that he was losing his only friend.

“You’re wrong,” Henry’s voice wobbled.

“Boys also don’t cry like babies,” Mike said. “Look, I should really get going. Thanks for, uh, everything. I’ll see you at school, Henry.” With that, he helped himself out, leaving Henry alone and lost.

Monday came. Henry wasn’t surprised to be alone at a two-seater table once again.

2.

Henry likes to think he got over it, but if he were completely honest, it stayed with him years after trying to bury those memories deep within himself. He eventually picked up some friends—acquaintances, really—here and there, but most of them were only from school projects or family friends. He grew up to accept the fact that this is just simply how it’s going to be for him, but that’s alright for Henry because he still has his person—his dad.

He was the one Henry ran to, crying, later that night after Mike left. Without question nor any protest about Henry ruining his suit that he was going to wear for a movie premiere, Arthur let his younger son sob into his chest. He didn’t know what really happened, though if he could guess, it probably had something to do with his friend.

His chest pained at that—at the thought of Henry growing up without anyone aside from his family. Arthur finds this utterly absurd. Even at the tender age of five, he already knew that Henry will grow up to be the sweetest, most thoughtful, and loving person he could ever hope to be. He’s already proud of him for that. But the thing is, the world tends to be unkind to those who have their hearts on their sleeve, and he’s afraid of the day Henry would be picked apart by the prying eyes of the public, not caring what it would do to him.

He waited for a few minutes before he was finally able to coax the story of out Henry. Arthur listened, stroke his son’s back, and brushed fallen strands of blonde hair from his forehead before kissing it.

“—And then he left, and w-when I got to school, h-he won’t talk to m-me anymore,” Henry hiccuped. “Says I-I’m weird and g-gross.”

It was surely too early to tell, but Arthur didn’t miss the way his son’s attention was attuned to boys rather than to girls. He doesn’t mind one bit, although he’s definitely worried how this might affect his son growing up. He’s one less person, but there’s still the rest of their family—and the whole world. Arthur frowned. “He said that?”

Henry nodded tearfully. “Yeah, so now I’m a l-loner at school again because I lost my only f-friend.”

“Hey!” Arthur gasped mockingly. “What about me? Aren’t we friends?”

“You’re my dad,” Henry said flatly. At that, Arthur’s mind suddenly flashed back to his conversation with Catherine a few weeks ago. _Your son is so sassy_ , Arthur complained after coming back from Henry’s room to tuck him in bed, to which Catherine just laughed and said, _Like father, like son, love_.

Arthur scoffed. “I am, but I could also be your best friend, you know.”

“Is that allowed?” His son asked.

And despite the situation they’re in, Arthur laughed. “Sure, it is. And even if it’s not, then we’ll break that rule.”

“Gran’s going to get mad at us.”

“I can take her. I’m James Bond, remember?” Arthur winked, although he subtly looked around for anyone who’s listening in. He really didn’t want to get beheaded by that wrinkly old woman.

Henry, with tear-stained cheeks, grinned at his dad. “Alright.” For the first time in days, Henry felt as if a heavy weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

Years passed, he and his dad were as close as ever despite their piling responsibilities and hectic schedules. Henry is pretty content with his life at this point, though he sometimes, at the back of his mind, hopes if he could ever be truly himself openly. But then his brother would open his damned mouth and say something against what he is. Indirectly as it may be, those words were always enough to shove Henry back into his shell. He’s learned to ignore it. Nothing good would come out of punching Philip anyway.

Henry received the worst news of his life when he was eighteen. His father, as it turned out, got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. And the sickness is spreading fast. _Several months to live_ , the doctor said.

He went out that night, got drunk off his ass, and punched the wall of the bar. He looked too wasted for anyone to recognize him, which is why Shaan only managed to find him when Henry called him and drunkenly sobbed into the phone. He couldn’t remember what happened after, but he did know he never missed a day of visiting his dad at the hospital. When it came down to it, he assisted him in changing his clothes, getting him water, and fluffing his pillows. When they would talk, they made it a point to avoid the elephant in the room with Arthur only asking Henry about himself. He knows his dad knew about him even if he never voiced it out. Today, though, he feels a little bit braver.

One of the nights wherein their conversation brought up the topic of relationships, Henry did try to tell him. He cleared his throat. “Dad? I’ve got something I wish to tell you.”

Arthur stopped fiddling with his IV and asked, “What is it, Hen?”

“I… the thing is that, uhm… I like guys,” Henry managed to choke out the last part. He didn’t even realize he was crying until Arthur tried to sit up a bit to wipe his tears with his thumb. “I just wanted to tell you because you deserve to know more than anyone.”

Arthur smiled at him and clasped their hands. “Henry, look at me.” He did. “Thank you for telling me, son. But I want you to know that you don’t owe anyone anything, alright? I’m honored to have you share this with me, and please know that I don’t love you any less for it.”

Henry only managed to nod since he was busy wiping his tears. Somehow, he hoarsely got out, “I love you, dad. So much.”

“I love you more, kiddo. Come here.”

They worked out the wires connected to Arthur, so that they could properly embrace after a long time. A little while later, Arthur said, “How about when I finally beat this fucking sickness, you and I could download this dating app. Get you out to the right market.”

Henry looked outright mortified. “Dad! I-I’m not—”

“Not what?” Arthur cackled.

“Not really looking for someone to date,” Henry muttered. “It would only cause Gran to go ballistic, which would garner me yet again another lecture about how I’m in line for the throne and that I need to produce heirs—”

“Oh please, spear me that talk. I’ve also heard it from her a hundred times. It’s untraditional for movie actors to be part of the royal family, apparently,” Arthur scoffed. “But seriously. If there’s anyone you’d like me to meet…” He trailed off, letting Henry steer the conversation somewhere he’s more comfortable with.

“Nope, there isn’t.”

“I know that look.”

“What look?”

“Don’t play innocent with me. You’re thinking of someone in particular, aren’t you? Oops, there it is! You’re red as a tomato, son.”

Henry groaned, silently cursing his damned face. “Well, yes, fine, I do have someone in particular, but the thing is, I haven’t even met him yet.”

“Yet,” Arthur smirked. “So, who is this special guy?”

“He’s got curly hair.”

“Mhm.”

“He’s American.”

“ _Now_ , it’s getting interesting.”

“Okay, I’m not doing this.”

“I’m kidding! What else?”

“Uh, he’s biracial. Half-Mexican, half-Texan.”

“Sounds like you did your research.”

“He’s the First Son of the United States of America.”

“Fucking hell, kid. You sure know how to pick ‘em. Way to go down in history.”

“And he’s also, uhm…”

“He’s what?”

“Straight.”

“ _Oh_.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you can never be sure until you’ve met him, right?”

“How can I possibly meet him? He’s bloody halfway across the world!”

“You know, there are things called international events. Actually, now that I think about it, isn’t the next Olympics soon?”

“Yeah, I believe it’s next year. In Rio.”

“So, go.”

“Will you also be free then?”

“Hmm, too early to say, kiddo. Might have to talk to some people at work first, and oh, you know, beat this cancer. But I’ll try. I can’t miss the moment my son meets my future son-in-law, now can I?”

But he did miss it.

Only months later, Henry lost his best friend. And as he watched them lay the body of Arthur Fox six feet beneath the ground, he vowed to himself that he’d never again let anyone in his life because he’s going to lose them all anyway.

3.

A year later, he did meet the American boy at the Rio Olympics. Turns out, his name is Alexander—Alex for short. And it also turned out that Henry would never again talk to him after butchering their first encounter with each other. _God, why did he have to open his goddamned mouth and say_ can you get rid of him _?_ He’s such an asshole.

 _It’s probably for the best, though_ , Henry thinks to himself that night when his mind won’t quiet enough to let him catch even just a couple of hours of sleep. A while ago, he found out that Alex and Nora Holleran were publicly dating. So, in a way, the asshole that jumped out of him was his subconscious trying to save his already battered dignity.

He thought once he slept on it, he could finally move on and make peace with the fact that this boy who’s starting to occupy a significant amount of space in mind should have to be let go. However, as soon as he sat down at the breakfast table the next morning, the first thing that greeted him was the huge ass headline on the newspaper: _First Son Alex Claremont-Diaz and Nora Holleran seen Together at the Rio Olympics_.

Henry was just about to shove it away from him when a particular photograph at the side caught his eye. It was him and Alex, looking at each other, their faces unreadable. Under it, the caption stated: _Building International Relations: First Meeting of First Son Alex Claremont-Diaz and Prince Henry of Wales_.

Oh, for God’s sake.

Just then, a couple of guards entered the dining room, with his grandmother in tow. Henry cannot absolutely deal with this shit at eight in the morning, but it’s against protocols to leave someone at the table when eating, so he remained seated after greeting his Gran.

“Henry, please be a dear and pass that newspaper to me, would you?”

Henry did. He had no interest in striking up a conversation with her, so he silently went back to his chair and thought hard for a reason to be excused from this table. With no luck, his grandmother addressed him once again, “Looks like you’ve met the First Son of the United States.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Her eyes continued to scan the front page. She raised her eyebrow. “Oh, would you look at that, he’s dating the Holleran girl. I believe she’s the granddaughter of the Vice President?”

“She is, Your Majesty.”

“Speaking of dating, Henry, I’ve arranged for you to meet someone next week.”

Henry felt his stomach drop. “But Gran, I’m really not looking forward to seeing anyone at the moment.”

“Why not, dear? She’s a respectable woman, around your age. She’s French, I believe, and a direct descendant of Charles X.”

He really couldn’t care less who her relatives are but voicing it out would only result to his grandmother beheading him, so he curled his fist under the table instead. “Gran, I do appreciate what you’re doing for me, but really, there’s no need—”

“And why not?” There it is. The haughty tone and cold demeanor snapping into place. “Do you prefer someone else, then? Is that it, Henry?”

 _She knows_ , Henry thought fearfully. _She knows I’m gay and she’s taunting me about it._ “No, Your Majesty, that’s not it.”

The Queen made a _hmm_ sound and said after a moment, “June Claremont-Diaz.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Since you’re so against considering people who are like us.”

 _Fucking hell_ , Henry thought angrily. _How much more racist can this woman get?_ “I’m sure she’s wonderful, truly, but I would simply like to focus my time right now on my business arrangements with Percy Okonjo. If you’ll excuse me,” he said, and started walking away.

4.

Henry didn’t know how, on a fine Friday evening, he finds himself shoving his tongue down a man’s throat.

His mind’s a bit fuzzy from all the alcohol he’s had tonight, but somewhere between all the flirting and the too casual touches and the popping of jean buttons, there was an exchange of consent between the two of them. Wait, what was his name again? John? Joe? James? In Henry’s defense, he was a bit preoccupied, but he really did ask for the guy’s name before palming him.

He was definitely a James.

“You’re thinking too loudly, Your Highness,” James groaned into his neck.

“Sorry.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I am.”

And so, Henry had his first time with a guy. It was memorable for him, given that this was probably the only time he could ever have this despite only being a casual hook-up. Deep down, Henry imagined that he’d get to have this experience with someone whom he loves, not just with some guy from a club—and one of Philip’s mates at that. _Jesus fucking Christ_ , Henry thought. He was in the middle of a spiral, when James moved beside him in the bed.

“Time’s it?” He croaked.

“Nine in the morning,” Henry replied.

James groaned. “Too early for this shit, man.”

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Henry was pretty sure he didn’t move too much when he untangled himself from James’ limbs and from the bedsheet when he woke up.

“Nah, s’good.”

When James finally managed to get out of bed, they decided to have breakfast at a café nearby. They walked there, all casual and no hand holding whatsoever. Henry was already preparing himself for what he has to say, but when they sat down at their table, James beat him to it first. “We’re good, right?”

Henry doesn’t actually know what he’s particularly referring to, so he simply replied with, “Yes, we are. Good, I mean.”

James smiled. “Good. I’d hate it if the Prince of England finds my skills subpar. I gotta be a memorable fling, right?”

God did Henry hated that word. _Fling._ He knows that’s what this all is even before he decided to go to the club in the first place, and yet he can’t help but feel some sort of sting in his heart when it was said out loud to him. That whatever he’d have with another man could never be considered for the long run because of all things, his birthright had to be a country and a family that apparently still couldn’t move past heteronormative ideals.

He cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. Listen, James, do you think we could—”

James cut him off gently, “Look, Henry, as much as I enjoyed last night, we could never continue this.”

“But we don’t have to tell anyone. I can maintain your anonymity; I promise you that.”

“I know that, and I trust that you would, but the thing is I’m out. And… well, you’re not. I don’t want to limit myself, you know?”

 _To me,_ Henry thought to himself what James really meant to say. _He doesn’t want to be shackled to me._ “I understand,” Henry said to him. “You’re right, you deserve so much more.”

“Henry.”

“No, you’re right. Thank you for last night, I had a great time.”

After they parted, more awkwardly this time, Henry wasn’t in the mood for anything, so he just decided to spend the entire day up in his room at the palace. The universe decidedly picked on him today because as he switched the channel where The Great British Bake Off was supposed to be airing, he lands on a different one instead—the one wherein the unforgettable face of Alex Claremont-Diaz greeted him. He was being interviewed somewhere wherein President Ellen Claremont recently had her campaign for the upcoming presidential elections. “—bitter sting losing Texas, but I trust that y’all wouldn’t let us down next year.”

Henry wanted to scream.

God, even after all this time, he still finds Alex beautiful. He wonders what it would feel like to have his hands brush through those curls, to stare at his eyes up close, to be at the receiving end of that Oscar-winning smile that captured the hearts of millions of Americans. _And one gay British heart,_ Henry thought drily. He really needs to find a better coping mechanism other than coming up with witty remarks no one would even hear.

Henry decided to continue watching this channel though. If he’s going to be repressed all his life, he might as well take advantage of the times wherein he could be himself even if he’s surrounded by walls. Because Henry will never free to love.

5.

Henry woke up to multiple texts from Pez.

_baaaabe will I see you later??_

_r u still asleep_

_pls tell me u can sneak out of your castle to play with auntie pezza. there’ll be lots of rainbows and unicorns if u kno what i’m talking abt ;)_

_henry get your royal ass up we need to get ready in thirty minutes if we want to get there in time!!_

He groaned. His brain still wasn’t functioning properly and couldn’t for the love of him remember what the hell was Pez talking about. A loud ringing sound suddenly greeted Henry. As predicted, it was his friend.

“Where are you?! Did you just wake up?”

“Uh, yes? Why, what’s wrong? I didn’t miss anything important for Philip’s wedding, did I?”

Pez scoffed. “Who the hell cares about your straight brother’s wedding. I’m talking about the Pride March, babe! It’s about to start in an hour. You said you’d come with me.”

Henry felt his heart sank. He did want to go, and he did say to Pez that they’d go together; however, his asshole of a brother found out about this and forbidden him to go. Instead, he was sent a list of things to check on for the wedding. Like Henry was Cinder-fucking-rella. He said as much to Pez when they talked last night, but his friend still insisted that they do whatever they want.

“Henry, I don’t know if he’s somehow forgotten, but you’re a fucking prince too! You’re royalty as much as he is. You gotta stop letting him treat you that way, love.”

Henry merely sighed at this because he knew Pez was right. Philip, as well as his Gran, has far too long controlled his life. But because he’s Henry and he’s tired of putting up a fight, he just apologized to Pez, made him promise to send Henry lots of pictures, and celebrate for him. Meanwhile, as London turned its street into every possible color there is, Henry resigned himself to the music room at the palace. If he couldn’t be out there, then he’d play every iconic song of every queer artist he knows to somehow be his source of comfort. And also to spite Philip.

He was in the middle of playing Elton John’s _Your Song_ when his phone buzzed again. It was a message from Pez.

_look out your window darling!!!_

He did and his heart felt like bursting because outside the palace gates of Kensington, thousands of people clad in all colors of the rainbow were shouting and cheering for each other. To celebrate who they are. To protest their rights. To show the world they’re not afraid any longer.

It was too much of a coincidence for the whole march to just end up outside the wing where he was currently staying at, so he was quite sure it was all Pez’s doing. Upon telling his friend that he can’t go, Henry only hoped that Pez would understand, but he did so much more than that—he brought Pride to Henry instead. Instead of being angry that he still can’t stand up to his family. Instead of scoffing at him for giving in to cowardice all the time. Instead of thinking him pathetic that he was content with locking himself up in a room when the world was out there celebrating people like him.

He didn’t know how long he was looking out at the window when the door to the music room suddenly opened to reveal a haggard-looking Bea, who was panting as if she’d just ran through every corner of the palace until finally ending up here. “Oh, you’ve already seen it,” she says. “Pez texted me non-stop until I’ve—”

She suddenly stopped the rest of what she was about to say when she saw tears streaming down her brother’s face. Immediately, Bea walked up to Henry, wrapped her arms around him, and cupped his head onto her shoulder where Henry continued to cry. “Shh, it’s okay, love. Just let it all out.”

Aside from his dad, Bea was the only other person in his family that Henry was out to. He was thankful to have built a closer relationship with her after Arthur died and felt tremendously lighter when she, like his dad, accepted Henry for who he is. Henry, after he has calmed down a bit, said to her, “Do you think I could be like them too? You know. Free.”

Bea continued rubbing circles on his back. “You will be, Hen. Trust me on that. Not now, but someday. I promise. I’ll help you get there, okay?”

“Okay,” Henry sniffed. “Thank you, Bea.”

They stayed like that for a long time, sitting together side-by-side on the sofa by the window, where they watched the crowed moved along the streets, pointing out to each other their favorite banners and signs, talking about what they would write on their board if they were out there too. A princess and a prince, both living in a palace, but both knowing they’re not home.

At least, not yet.

\+ 1

_Eight years later_

Alex Claremont-Diaz loved mornings.

He wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s fully functional along with the sun, but it has become his favorite part of the day because he gets to wake up to his favorite view—the streets of New York.

Oh, and his husband’s face too.

Speaking of which made Alex realize that his side of the bed is cold and empty. Grumbling, he forced himself out of bed because there’s no point in burying himself in their soft sheets if he’s missing the person he’d want to cuddle with while doing so. Call him sappy or whatever. He was just about to head towards the kitchen, when he hears a sound coming from their spare room. He opened it and there he is—the love of his life. His back was towards Alex, his hands dancing along the black and white keys as if he was born to do it all along, and his face looked so, so at peace.

Alex captured this moment in his mind, which he’d gladly keep forever.

“Take a picture, babe. It’ll last longer,” Henry called out to him despite not showing signs a while ago that he heard Alex come in.

“You know what I’ll take? You. Back to bed. Because it’s too early for all this shit, so let’s just go back please,” Alex whined.

At that, Henry laughed and turned around in his stool to face him. “Well, you were snoring so loudly it woke me up.”

“Tired of me already, Wales?” Alex went up to him smirking a little. “What happened to for better or for worse?”

“Oh, trust me, this is definitely for worse,” Henry muttered.

Alex decided to pretend he didn’t hear what Henry just said. Instead, he connected his phone to the built-in speakers in the room and selected the song Henry was just playing on the piano when he came in. Ben E. King’s voice flooded the room.

_When the night has come_

_And the land is dark_

_And the moon is the only light we'll see_

Now, it was turn for Henry to smirk. “Tired of my playing already, Diaz? What happened to for better or for worse?”

“Trust me,” Alex said. “This is definitely for better.” He took Henry’s hand and led them to the center of the room where the space is clear, placed his hands on Henry’s waist while the other man placed both of his on Alex’s shoulders.

_No I won't be afraid_

_Oh, I won't be afraid_

_Just as long as you stand,_ _stand by me_

They stayed like that until Henry pulled him closer and placed his forehead against Alex’s, closing his eyes. “I can’t believe I get to have this,” he whispered. He shook his head a little disbelievingly. “I hoped, but I never—”

Alex effectively cut him off with a tender kiss on the forehead. “Better believe it, baby, because you agreed to be legally bound to me forever. Also, you can’t divorce me because I’m a lawyer, I’ll just screw whatever legal paper you throw my way.”

Henry laughed wetly. “Guess I’ll just have to bear being married to you then.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“Oh, love, there’s nothing else I’d rather live with.”

_Darling, darling_

_Stand by me, oh stand by me_

_Oh stand now_

_Stand by me, stand by me_


End file.
